


In Fidelity

by VampireMadonna



Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Happy Ending?, Jeonghan did a bad bad thing, M/M, Mingyu is a manwhore, University AU, Wonwoo is a sad puppy, brief mention of rape jokes, campus life, more thangs than sex, poor Scoups, sex and thangs, slight non-consent(not rape), with emo issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 11:23:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5203958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireMadonna/pseuds/VampireMadonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeonghan loves his boyfriend but they're only 20 years old and their sex life isn't what it used to - or should - be. Enter Mingyu, for better or worse. Most likely worse...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jeonghan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zizizit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zizizit/gifts).



> My friend keeps complaining about the lack of Seventeen fics so I wrote this for her. Hope you're happy, b****! :D

He could blame it on the alcohol, he supposed.

 _If_ he wanted to.

But that would defeat the entire purpose, wouldn’t it?

He wasn’t drunk: they both knew it. Sure, Scoups wouldn’t. He wasn’t here. He would only know what Jeonghan told him. _If_ Jeonghan told him. But he _would_ , wouldn’t he, otherwise what would have been the point?

“I knew you’d give in eventually,” Mingyu drawled, ever-present smirk curving his lips as he closed and locked the door behind them, approaching Jeonghan stealthily, like a predator pursuing its prey.

Jeonghan couldn’t suppress a mental sigh. This would be a hell of a lot easier if Mingyu kept his mouth shut.

As he fell back onto the bed, having been pushed none-too-gently, he allowed his eyes to drift over his companion.

Despite what he might otherwise think of him, there was no denying that Mingyu was a fine specimen of masculinity. Tall and fit with broad shoulders – not unlike his own – and a thick head of hair that he kinda wanted to run his hands through. At odds with his otherwise handsome face were his cute teeth, almost like a baby’s. They suggested an innocence that Jeonghan was 100% sure the young man didn’t possess.

“What made you change your mind?” Mingyu asked as he moved above him, knees planted on either side of Jeonghan’s thighs, arms braced beside his head.

Jeonghan, hearing the genuine curiosity in his voice, decided that there was no harm in being honest. It would at least keep things from getting weird. This was a one-time event. There would be no repeats. The sooner Mingyu accepted that, the better.

“I need to spice things up in my relationship. I figured this was one way to go about it.”

Mingyu cocked a brow, intrigued. “Most people try sex toys or different positions. This seems a bit extreme, especially for you.”

Jeonghan shrugged. “Scoups isn’t particularly interested in sex aids. Besides, we’re not exactly on the same page with where things stand. He’s more of an ‘ _if it ain’t broke_ kind of guy’.”

Truer words had never been spoken, Jeonghan thought. The fact was that he _had_ tried everything Mingyu suggested. Or _tried_ to try, rather. It was difficult when your partner was pretty one-dimensional in the bedroom.

Jeonghan loved his boyfriend. When it came to his personality, there was nothing he would change about Seungcheol. He was kind, caring, affectionate, and dependable: all that good, wholesome stuff. And in the beginning, it had been enough. They’d been together since high-school, now sharing a dorm-room at university which was the equivalent of cohabitating for people who couldn’t yet afford to provide for themselves. They slept together, ate together, would shower together if they could get away with it – they’d tried once, unsuccessfully – , spent every moment together that they weren’t obligated to be somewhere else, like class. Or on a track and field trip, as Scoups currently was.

Domestic life was all well and good, even if it creeped some of their friends out since they thought they were too young to be so married, but things had grown stale lately…at least for Jeonghan. There was too much same old, same old. He wanted to change that so he’d bought a few toys – basic stuff, nothing too challenging or intimidating – and tried to introduce them into their bi-weekly sessions. That he could even coin it _bi-weekly_ was a testament to the fact that they were in trouble. They were college students, for cripes’ sake. They were supposed to be having more sex _now_ than any other time in their lives, especially since they were committed and living together. Sex was basically on tap, or supposed to be.

Seungcheol had been visibly surprised when he’d trotted the toys out but intrigued, at least in the beginning. After a few goes at it, he’d given up. It had been obvious that he preferred it just being the two of them, which Jeonghan could kind of understand. Seungcheol wasn’t even into porn, though Jeonghan was practically a connoisseur, so perhaps using the toys felt like too much of a performance. He’d quickly nixed that off his list.

Next, he’d smooth-talked Seungcheol into trying a few new positions that he’d looked up on the internet. Again, Seungcheol had initially been curious but that curiosity had quickly waned. For one thing, he didn’t like positions where he couldn’t look Jeonghan in the eyes while they had sex. For another, he didn’t like anything that could possibly hurt or be painful for Jeonghan.

Here was where they had a difference of opinion.

Some time ago, purely by accident, Jeonghan had discovered that he had a bit of a pain kink. Ironically, Seungcheol was the one who’d led him to that realization. They’d been a bit tipsy one night, after a party, and Seungcheol had been feeling unusually amorous. Jeonghan, who had been taken aback but thrilled nonetheless by his boyfriend’s enthusiasm, had let Seungcheol have his way with him and _boy_ had he. It was one of the best nights they’d ever had. For once, Seungcheol had relinquished the reins on his control and given into instinct. He hadn’t been worried about being gentle or seeing to Jeonghan’s pleasure first. He’d claimed and he’d taken without restraint or reservation and Jeonghan had almost blacked out from the intensity of his orgasms. Orgasms, _plural_! It had been a glorious night, to say the least. To this day, he still thought about it, often when he was alone, with one of his favourite porn videos playing (which Seungcheol had no idea were hidden in a folder deep inside his hard-drive) and no clothes on.

It wasn’t that he wanted anything too BDSM-y: he had no interest in the extreme stuff, certainly nothing that could potentially leave him scarred or disfigured. But he didn’t mind being tied up or spanked – especially spanked – and he craved a harder, harsher hand. In truth, it wasn’t so much a pain kink that he had as a power one. Jeonghan would never trade Seungcheol’s reverent, almost beatific, kisses and caresses for anything in the world: he cherished them. But it didn’t matter whether Seungcheol was inside of him or the other way around, he was always in control. If he ordered Seungcheol to stop just on the cusp of orgasm, for no other reason than he felt like being an ass, he would. He’d probably apologize, assuming he’d done something wrong. It was sweet…but Jeonghan needed variety and Seungcheol wouldn’t give him that on his own. Not without some incentive.

Enter Mingyu.

He hadn’t planned for this to happen, honestly. He’d been at a party, wallowing a little, which his friends hadn’t appreciated, when he’d seen Mingyu in the corner getting high with some of his friends. Since their first day on campus, Mingyu had had his eye on Jeonghan. He wasn’t flattered by it: it was simply fact. Mingyu had tried to flirt with him; tried even harder when Jeonghan simply ignored him. He’d backed off a little when he’d found out that Jeonghan wasn’t single but by their third year of university, he’d resumed his flirtations. By this point, Mingyu had been kicked off the track and field team and he and Scoups were at odds with one another, for reasons Jeonghan had yet to find out. Seungcheol never kept secrets from him yet he refused to tell him what had happened between them.

He hadn’t immediately seen opportunity when he’d looked at Mingyu. He’d simply been reminded of the fact that he did indeed find the guy physically attractive and might have considered dating him if Scoups wasn’t in the picture and Mingyu’s arrogant, whorish ways weren’t so abhorrent to him.

Mingyu had noticed him, of course, and come over when he realized that Scoups was nowhere to be found. They’d started talking – _flirting_ – and an idea had begun to form in Jeonghan’s mind. Mingyu would, and could, give him what he wanted. _And then some_ , probably. And, as a bonus, Seungcheol would be most affected if it was Mingyu. Hurt too, naturally. _Immensely_. Perhaps enough to break up with Jeonghan. He didn’t want that, he loved Seungcheol and their being together for the rest of their lives was a given at this point but what kind of life would it be if their relationship had already gone stale and was getting staler by the minute? They were only twenty years old for goodness sake!

His rationalization was superficial at best and he refused to allow himself to consider how he’d feel if the shoe were on the other foot – he honestly couldn’t even if he tried because a world didn’t exist where Seungcheol would ever actually cheat on him – but he was so damn desperate and he didn’t know what else to do. It wasn’t even just about the sex. He had a deep-seated fear that a boring sex life was just the beginning. In time, maybe they’d grow too accustomed to one another and would eventually stop making any effort. It would only keep going downhill from there.

 _Talk to him_ , a little voice had whispered.

He could…he _should_ …but he already knew the outcome. Seungcheol would blame himself, would think that he was inadequate and not taking care of Jeonghan’s needs. Seungcheol had never taken well to criticism.

 _And what would sleeping with Mingyu accomplish?_ , the little voice had asked.

Best case scenario, Seungcheol would realize that there were others who could give Jeonghan what he needed or perhaps be motivated to step his game up so that Jeonghan would have no cause to seek his pleasures elsewhere.

Worst case…he hadn’t really thought that through and now certainly wasn’t the time.

Bringing himself back to the present, he tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck in a way that he knew was appealing. Mingyu’s flaring nostrils and dilating pupils signaled that he agreed.

“What about you?” he asked. “What’s in this for you?”

Mingyu’s smirk spread into a full-fledged grin, his eyes drifting down Jeonghan’s face to his body and back up. “I’ve always wanted a taste of you, you know that. How could I, in good conscience, say no?”

Jeonghan chuckled softly. “Right.”

“What? You don’t believe me?”

Jeonghan shrugged and looked away. They were playing chess here, a tango of wits and skill, and it was imperative that Jeonghan stay on top of his game. This, whatever they were doing, was a mere transaction. Mingyu wasn’t Seungcheol: he couldn’t afford to let his guard down with him.

He felt Mingyu’s lips settle on his neck and closed his eyes on a sigh. He was tempted to warn him not to leave any marks but one or two wouldn’t be so bad, he supposed. It would make things easier with Seungcheol if nothing else. His neck had always been one of his most sensitive spots, though. For the first time since this thing had begun, he felt himself getting hard.

Mingyu lowered himself onto Jeonghan, making Jeonghan aware of just how big and heavy he was. One hand threaded into his hair, tugging slightly, which turned him on even more, while the other curved around his jaw and maneuvered his head back around so that he was looking up into Mingyu’s eyes. He saw Mingyu’s gaze drop to his lips and couldn’t resist wetting them with the tip of his tongue. As Mingyu’s face grew closer, however, Jeonghan shook his head.

“No kissing,” he said softly.

Mingyu paused, raising a questioning brow. “Is my breath that bad?” he joked.

Jeonghan smiled but didn’t answer. How could he tell Mingyu that while he might give him his body, at least for this one night, he couldn’t give him his lips? That to him and Seungcheol, kissing was far more intimate and precious than sex? He didn’t think even Mingyu, with his seemingly thick skin and hard head, could overlook that insult.

Mingyu moved in again, his lips barely grazing the corners of Jeonghan’s before Jeonghan pulled away, pressing his hands firmly against Mingyu’s chest.

“Are you serious?” A frown settled between Mingyu’s brows and his voice had suddenly hardened.

A shiver of apprehension raced down Jeonghan’s spine and for the first time, he questioned whether he made a mistake choosing Mingyu. “I’m sorry.”

“So it’s okay for me to fuck you but kissing isn’t allowed?” Mingyu asked through clenched teeth, rising up onto his elbows to glare down at Jeonghan.

Having it put into words made Jeonghan realize just how stupid it sounded and a flush tinted his cheeks, even though he stood by his feelings on the matter.

“We don’t have to do this,” he offered quietly, a large part of him wishing that Mingyu would agree and leave.

For a long, tense minute, Mingyu said nothing, merely hovered above him, holding himself still, his expression hard, closed and incredibly unsettling.

Wordlessly, he slid off of Jeonghan until he was standing beside the bed. “Take off your clothes.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widened, startled, and he gulped nervously but he complied without protest, sitting up to unbutton his shirt, aware of Mingyu’s intense eyes on him the entire time. Maybe it was his imagination but his skin burned everywhere Mingyu’s gaze lingered as he unveiled his flesh to him. He was probably just being self-conscious. No one had ever seen him naked besides Seungcheol and Seungcheol loved every inch of Jeonghan’s body. He’d never had to wonder about anyone else’s opinion. This was new territory for him.

After he had discarded his shirt and started on his jeans, he had a little trouble getting the skin-tight fabric down his hips from his seated position and a seemingly impatient Mingyu grabbed him by the ankle and forcefully dragged the offending material down his legs, one at a time, almost taking his briefs with it.

“Underwear too,” Mingyu urged, when Jeonghan didn’t immediately make a move to remove his last remaining garment.

As he did so, Jeonghan could feel heat spreading across his entire body and knew that he was probably flushed pink. He couldn’t even meet Mingyu’s eyes, he was so embarrassed.

He had to ask himself if he really wanted to do this; if this was truly the only way. It wasn’t that he wanted Mingyu personally and it wasn’t too late to call it off. Despite his questionable reputation, Jeonghan had never heard anything about Mingyu that made him fear for his safety. He knew that if he put an end to the night right then and there, Mingyu would respect his decision and leave, even if a bit disgruntled. But Jeonghan was an obstinate fool and once he’d made up his mind about something, he usually followed through.

“Turn over,” Mingyu ordered. “On your knees.”

Jeonghan rolled onto his stomach but he reached over to the side-table to open the draw and grab a bottle of lube and a couple of condoms, throwing them over his shoulder to Mingyu, before getting into place. Who knew where Mingyu had been – or rather, who _didn’t_. If he could double-wrap his dick without fear of breaking the condoms, he would.

Jeonghan heard movement behind him, the shifting of feet and rustling of clothes, but he was too nervous and embarrassed to look. He had never felt so exposed in his life, bent over, ass in the air like an offering. He was once again reminded that Scoups was the only person to have ever seen him in such a state and even during their first time, despite the awkwardness and the pain, he hadn’t felt this uncomfortable. He hadn’t questioned whether it was right either. There’d been no doubt in his mind that it had been, unlike now.

After what felt like forever, the bed shifted and Jeonghan felt one of Mingyu’s hands grip his hip, the other going to his entrance where cold, slick fingers circled and prodded, slipping in slightly before disappearing altogether.

Mingyu’s weight pressed against his back, his breath tickling the nape of Jeonghan’s neck, as he said,

“I’m not going to be gentle.”

That was as much warning as Jeonghan got before Mingyu pushed into him so forcefully that he lurched forward, barely managing to brace himself on his elbows before he face-planted.

It hurt, every inch of Mingyu scorching his insides as he slid into him far too quickly, but it would’ve been a lot worse if Jeonghan hadn’t indulged in a little self-service and made use of his toys prior to the party. Thank heaven for his sex drive.

Mingyu’s body was much different from Seungcheol’s. Besides the fact that he was huge and heavy, he just felt different inside of him. And when he moved, barely sparing a moment for Jeonghan to adjust when he bottomed out, that too was quite distinct from what he was used to.

Mingyu tore Jeonghan’s hair-band off and gripped his ponytail, tugging and pulling his head back in time with his quick, smooth thrusts. Jeonghan didn’t know what it said about him that he was panting, soft moans drifting from his lips as he countered Mingyu’s movements with his own as best he could. Moving was hard with Mingyu practically lying on top of him. He started to reach between his legs where he was hard, leaking and desperately needed attention but Mingyu slapped his hand away, tugging his hair harder and quickening his thrusts in punishment.

Jeonghan moaned louder.

He couldn’t say for sure how long they lasted. His attention was divided between his emotions, his heart telling him how wrong what he was doing was, and his body, greedily devouring Mingyu as he plunged into him over and over again, delicious pleasure arcing along his nerve-endings. He could tell when Mingyu was close as his hips started snapping harder, faster, alternating between deep and shallow. Jeonghan wasn’t used to being taken so roughly and he knew that he’d probably – _definitely_ – be sore later but for now it was everything he’d wanted, everything he’d known that Mingyu would be able to give.

“Is this what you wanted?” Mingyu growled in his ear, as if he’d read his thoughts. He leaned more heavily against Jeaonghan so that his upper half was completely flat, forcing him to turn his head sideways so that he could breathe. “Hmm? Is this what you wanted, Princess?”

Jeonghan felt a momentary flare of irritation at the nickname, one that everyone including Mingyu – _especially_ Mingyu – knew he hated. There were some guys who basked in being feminized, lauded for their “beauty” but Jeonghan wasn’t one of them. He loved his hair, there was no questioning that, and appreciated that others did too but he hated the way people judged him unfairly because of their perception of the way it made him look.

His irritation didn’t last long, however, as Mingyu bit into his shoulder, surprising Jeonghan so much that it sent him over the edge. He couldn’t really move with Mingyu’s total weight on top of him but he didn’t need to. He had never come untouched before yet there he was, spilling onto his sheets, gasping and moaning at turns as his knees finally gave out and he crumpled at an awkward angle, taking Mingyu down with him.

Mingyu had come too – he was pretty sure he’d heard an elongated _“fuuckkkkk”_ and Mingyu had stopped thrusting for a minute or so – but he was still grinding into him, teeth still digging into Jeonghan’s sore flesh. Without his orgasm-induced haze, it was beginning to hurt, both actions, and not in a good way.

“Was that to your liking, Princess?” Mingyu asked, the angry tone in his voice making Jeonghan flinch despite its huskiness.

“Mingyu…”

Not giving him a chance to finish, Mingyu tightened his hand in Jeonghan’s hair, where he hadn’t realized it still was, and pulled, forcing his head up and sideways into an uncomfortable position. Before he realized what Mingyu intended, Mingyu had already crushed their lips together. Like the sex, his kiss was not gentle. He bit down roughly on Jeonghan’s lower lip, forcing a gasp and a pained _“No”_ from him before taking advantage of his parted lips and forcing his tongue inside.

Jeonghan struggled but Mingyu held him in place, moving his lips brusquely until he was satisfied, Jeonghan supposed, and finally released his hair, pulling away and slipping out of him in the process.

He hadn’t felt violated up until then. Afterwards, he lay in a state of shock, Mingyu’s movements behind him barely registering until he said,

“Pleasure doing business with you, Princess.”

Still dazed, Jeonghan turned over and sat up, unconsciously reaching for the covers to shield himself in a belated attempt at modesty.

As Mingyu placed a hand on the doorknob, Jeonghan cleared his throat and said, “You can stay…if you want.”

He didn’t know why he’d said that. It wasn’t that he wanted Mingyu’s company, not after what he had just done. But now that his body had gotten what it wanted and the fog had cleared, he felt exactly what he was: broken, tainted, alone. Mingyu walking out immediately after only made what they’d done seem that much sleazier.

Mingyu’s lips lifted into a sardonic smile. “Do you _really_ want me to stay?”

Jeonghan didn’t reply but whatever Mingyu saw on his face seemed to be answer enough.

Mingyu’s lips split into a wide grin and then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

In the deafening quiet that followed his departure, Jeonghan’s grip tightened in the covers, as if they could keep him moored; return him to the safety he’d so carelessly thrown away.

As silent tears tracked down his cheeks, he wondered which was worse: that he’d unequivocally lost the game – and so much more that he probably didn’t realize yet – or that Mingyu hadn’t even taken off his clothes to fuck him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first "chapter" is the main body of the fic, the other three parts focus on the aftermath of the events that take place here, written in the other characters' POVs.


	2. Seungcheol

He was tired, dirty and desperately needed to sleep but as he made his way up the stairs to his room, Seungcheol couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at his lips.

He was home.

Some would probably find it odd to refer to a dorm room as home but it was his home, until he graduated at least, and his room held something, _someone_ , very precious that made it even more so.

Coach hadn’t been too happy when he’d decided to take a bus back home as soon as the meet had ended instead of spending their last night celebrating with the rest of the team as they usually did but he’d led the team to victory once again so he figured that more than made up for it.

Truthfully, he hated being away from Jeonghan but especially now when he knew that something was off between them. Jeonghan hadn’t said anything but he could feel it: there was something on his mind that he was keeping to himself. He knew that he was to blame, even if only for the fact that Jeonghan wasn’t being up front and honest. Jeonghan had told him a long time ago, back in high school, that Seungcheol didn’t take criticism well and it made it difficult to speak to him about certain things. He’d known that about himself, a by-product of his childhood, and had always felt regretful that Jeonghan didn’t think he could be as open with him as he was with everyone else. He didn’t like whatever was going on between them now, even though nothing had changed on the surface, and while he’d been away he’d thought long and hard about it and made up his mind to do something about that bad and potentially hurtful flaw. He’d do anything to keep Jeonghan, to make him happy. A lot of people wanted him, threw themselves at him in fact, yet he’d never had eyes for anyone but Seungcheol. He would never _not_ be amazed by that. Every day that he woke up beside Jeonghan or came home to him was the best day of his life, as far as he was concerned.

His steps quickened as he approached their floor. He’d only been away for three days – and it wasn’t the first time – but it felt like ages since he’d seen him.

He had his key in hand as he burst onto their floor, figuring that Jeonghan would be asleep at 3:00am, but when he stopped in front of their door and turned the knob, it gave away easily, swinging open.

Surprised, Seungcheol stepped into the doorway and froze.

Alerted by the door opening, Jeonghan had sit up in their bed – two singles pushed together to make a large one – one hand tangled in the covers that lay pooled at his waist. He blinked against the brightness from the overhead light, restless sleep creasing his usually smooth features.

Seungcheol’s gym bag dropped from lifeless fingers as he took another step forward, eyes glued to the figure on the bed.

Jeonghan’s normally clear skin was marred by marks on his side and there was a startlingly red bruise on his shoulder, visible even from the distance between them. His eyes were blood-shot, like he’d been crying, and his lips were slightly puffy and red. His hair, which he usually wrapped for the night before going to bed otherwise he woke up with strands in his mouth and eyes, was a mess, standing out in wild tufts in some places and hanging limply in others.

He looked ruined.

Seungcheol’s mind immediately went to the worst case scenario and a heart-stopping fear gripped him.

“Seungcheol-ah?” Jeonghan finally said, voice raspy and cloaked with fatigue. “What are you doing here?”

“What happened?” he demanded. “Did someone…”

“What?” Jeonghan’s forehead creased in confusion for a minute before realization finally hit him. “No!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “Nothing happened. I’m…I’m okay.”

Seungcheol’s eyes swept over him, his expression clearly disbelieving. He had never seen Jeonghan look so…ravaged in all the years he’d known him.

“If someone hurt you,” he tried again, purposely gentling his tone this time. He would kill the bastard, whoever he was, but first he needed to assure Jeonghan that whatever had happened, it wasn’t his fault.

Jeonghan shook his head again. “I wasn’t…No one hurt me. I swear.”

Now it was Seungcheol’s turn to be confused. If nothing was wrong, then why was he so obviously upset? And why was he in such disarray?

As he continued to look at his boyfriend, colour bloomed in Jeonghan’s cheeks spreading down his shoulders, arms and chest like wildfire. Seungcheol could see his eyes beginning to shine and it was then it him.

It was then, he knew.

“What did you do?” he croaked.

Jeonghan took a deep breath, tears slipping down his red cheeks on the exhale. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice barely audible.

Seungcheol staggered back beneath the weight of his unspoken admission. Somehow hearing it was worse than seeing it written clearly across his face. “Why?”

Jeonghan shook his head, a trembling hand wiping the wetness from his cheeks. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“What does that even mean, Jeonghan?”

“I can’t talk to you,” he said helplessly. “I know I should have but I can’t. And I tried to ignore the way I felt but it wasn’t getting any better. You’re so set in your ways and…” He broke off, shaking his head again, his hair falling forward and disrupting Seungcheol’s view of his face. “It was a mistake. I knew it was the entire time and I wanted to stop but I didn’t.”

Seungcheol’s chest hurt, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The unimaginable had happened and he wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to react. What was he supposed to say? The person he loved more than anything in the world, the one person who’d defied the old adage of perfection being a myth, had betrayed him.

“Why didn’t you?” he choked out.

Jeonghan swept his hair aside so that he could look up at him. His tears were no longer falling but his eyes were even redder than before, still shining brightly despite the resolve burning in them.

“Because I told myself that I needed to go through with it. And I wanted to, even though my heart was elsewhere.”

Seungcheol’s eyes dropped to the throw rug in front of the bed, his jaw clenching and unclenching in turns. Hearing that Jeonghan’s heart hadn’t been involved didn’t make him feel any better. If anything, it made matters worse. He could never understand people who cheated but he accepted that if there were feelings involved, genuine emotion and mutual caring, then perhaps it made it couldn’t be avoided. Sex for sex’s sake, however… That was just destructive greed as far as he was concerned. It was pure selfishness and he’d never known Jeonghan to be selfish.

For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why Jeonghan would seek someone else out. He did everything for him, never denied him anything he wanted. Jeonghan wasn’t demanding to begin with, he was in fact very easy to please, but if there was something he’d desired, all he’d have to do was ask. Unless…unless Seungcheol no longer satisfied him sexually. Jeonghan would never admit something like that. Seungcheol would never have been able to endure hearing it.

Still staring at the ground, he noticed Jeonghan’s things discarded haphazardly and it made his blood boil. One side of socks, his jeans and shirt…and a used condom. At the last, Seungcheol saw red. He should be grateful, he supposed, that they’d even bothered to use protection but what kind of guy was so disgusting that he couldn’t find a bin to toss his rubber?

“Who was it?” he ground out, teeth clenched tighter than ever, eyes hard as he once again raised his head.

All colour faded from Jeonghan’s cheeks. He shook his head slowly. “I don’t think…”

“Who was it?” he repeated, voice steelier than before.

“Seungcheol, please…”

“Tell me!”

Jeonghan’s head whipped back as if he’d been slapped. Seungcheol imagined that he was probably stunned since he’d never raised his voice at him before. Jeonghan had never been on the receiving end of his anger. He didn’t care, though. He would never put his hands on Jeonghan but the fury burning through his veins just then was barely under his control.

“Mingyu.”

A chill descended over Seungcheol, seeping into his bones, and for a second he hysterically wondered if something was wrong with the A/C.

He had to have misheard him. There was no way.

“Mingyu,” he repeated tonelessly.

Jeonghan nodded.

“Are you serious?” There went his control. “Of all the people on this fucking campus, Jeonghan. Why him? Why the fuck would you do that?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? You’re _sorry_?” he raged. “How could you after…”

He cut himself off before he said too much.

Jeonghan didn’t know.

He’d never wanted him to; had made sure that he’d never found out. Even Mingyu had kept quiet even though he could’ve spilled the beans at any point over the past year. Then again, he would’ve essentially shot himself in the foot where Jeonghan was concerned if he had.

Seungcheol and Mingyu had never been friends. They’d been instant rivals the minute they’d arrived on campus and joined the track team and it didn’t help that Mingyu had made clear his interest in Jeonghan, though he’d mostly kept it in check in the beginning. During sophomore year, however, when Mingyu had gotten into hot water with the Coach and Seungcheol, as the new captain, had supported Coach’s decision to kick him off the team, they’d gone from rivals to straight up enemies. Since then, Mingyu had gone out of his way to pursue Jeonghan, even flirting with him in front of Seungcheol without a care. Things didn’t come to a head until one day when Mingyu had walked into the locker room, claiming to be looking for a friend despite Seungcheol knowing for a fact that he had no friends on the track team. He’d said as much, telling Mingyu to try being a decent person and find some new friends if that was the case, to which Mingyu had suddenly asked where Jeonghan was, suggesting that maybe Jeonghan was the kind of friend he needed to turn him from his “wicked ways”, though his tone implied that he had more than friendship in mind. Like the protective boyfriend that he was, Seungcheol fell for it, warning him to keep his distance and quit flirting with Jeonghan. Mingyu had countered, asking him if he was afraid that one day Jeonghan might give into his curiosity. At the time, Seungcheol had been pretty sure that that was impossible since Jeonghan found Mingyu unbearable and usually ignored him. Oh, how Mingyu must be laughing his ass off now.

Then Mingyu had said something that to this day still made Seungcheol sick to his stomach. Even Mingyu had seemed shocked that the words had come from his own mouth and he’d looked chagrined when Seungcheol told him, barely resisting the urge to plant his fist in his face, that rape jokes were never funny. He’d _cautioned_ him to never say such things to Jeonghan or even in his presence. Mingyu didn’t know that a close high-school friend of Jeonghan’s had been raped and later committed suicide when her family insisted she try to forget about it for fear of bringing shame to the family. Jeonghan himself had been subjected to unwanted advances of a physical nature when he’d initially grown his hair out. Seungcheol never wanted him to be reminded of that. Even now, with his heart breaking, he wouldn’t tell him why Mingyu was the worst person he could’ve chosen to cheat on him with. He probably hated himself enough as it was.

“Seungcheol?”

Jeonghan’s questioning voice and raised eyebrows reminded him that he’d stopped mid-sentence.

“Is this an ongoing thing?” he asked roughly, unable to ignore the green-eyed monster raging within him.

Jeonghan’s eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently. “No. God, no. It was a one-time mistake. Seungcheol, I swear.”

God, he was tired, he thought, dragging a hand through his hair. He could feel the beginnings of a tension headache behind his eyes.

“I need to get out of here.”

Jeonghan looked crestfallen but he nodded, pulling the covers higher and tighter around him. “I understand. I can leave if you want some space…”

Seungcheol pressed fingers into his tired eyes, kneading them lightly. “No, it’s fine. I’ll hit up Jihoon and see if he’s awake.”

He dropped his hand and looked at Jeonghan. Tears shone in his eyes again and they tore at Seungcheol’s heart.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he finally said.

Jeonghan nodded silently and then Seungcheol was out the door, closing it firmly behind him. He started down the hallway, automatically stopping in front of the elevator and pressing the button but when the cab arrived, he continued to stand there, watching absently until the door closed and the elevator was summoned to another floor.

Eventually, he wandered back down the hall and slid to the ground outside his own door, face in his hands.

He didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to be in his room, in his bed, with his boyfriend in his arms. But he couldn’t, not right now. Jihoon, his best friend, would welcome him with open arms, he was sure, but one look at his face would give away that something was wrong and Jihoon was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something: relentless. How could he tell him what Jeonghan had done? He didn’t want him thinking badly about Jeonghan. He didn’t want disparage Jeonghan’s character in anyone’s eyes, not even his own friend’s. Besides, he already knew how Jihoon would respond. His initial reaction would be shock, no doubt. No one would ever expect either Jeonghan or Seungcheol to cheat. They were the epitome of the perfect couple. Lots of people envied them what they had. Then Jihoon would likely tell him what he already knew: that Jeonghan wasn’t the cheating type so there must be something behind it. There was never any legitimate excuse for cheating, but it wasn’t something he would do for the sake of doing it. Which, as far as Seungcheol was concerned, meant only one thing: somehow, it was _his_ fault.

Jihoon would roll his eyes at him if he said that and no doubt Jeonghan would assure him that it wasn’t, but it was. He even had an idea what might have led to it.

When Jeonghan had first suggested using sex toys, he’d been taken aback. That they might need them had never occurred to him, but Jeonghan had looked so excited that he hadn’t had the heart to say no. It became obvious rather quickly, however, that Seungcheol wasn’t quite as comfortable or enthused and Jeonghan had stopped bringing them out. Seungcheol had simply assumed he’d lost interest or realized that things were fine the way they were. The same happened later on with the sex positions. It wasn’t until he’d discovered Jeonghan’s secret porn trove, unbeknownst to Jeonghan, that Seungcheol realized that Jeonghan had a real interest in experimenting with different things, that it wasn’t just a passing curiosity. He’d watched some of the professional videos but simply couldn’t get into them. He didn’t understand the appeal. Just the thought of hurting or demeaning Jeonghan in any way made his balls shrivel up. There had been some, titled _amateur_ , that weren’t so bad. They were clearly real-life couples experimenting with new things, perhaps the way Jeonghan had intended for them to. While Seungcheol still couldn’t personally appreciate the lifestyle, the love and genuine attraction the couples obviously had for each other had made it more appealing. When he’d then stumbled onto homemade videos of Jeonghan trying those _things_ on himself, it was then that he’d realized that they might be in trouble.

He had no problem with Jeonghan masturbating and he’d always known about his boyfriend’s interest in porn, which he didn’t personally share, but seeing Jeonghan in action, how enthusiastic and passionate he’d been by himself, had made him realize that he hadn’t seen him that way in quite a while. He loved making love to Jeonghan, loved being gentle and tender with him, worshipping his body with his own, and Jeonghan always came so he hadn’t realized that something was missing. But apparently, it was. And apparently, whatever it was, he’d thought he could get it from Mingyu.

Seungcheol groaned and rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes.

He couldn’t go there, couldn’t allow himself to even think about them being together, much less picturing it. If he did, he would hunt Mingyu down and heaven forgive him for what he would do when he found him.

Somehow, they had to find a way to live with it, to deal with this new reality. Jeonghan loved him, of that he had no doubt. He’d said it was a mistake and Seungcheol believed him. He would even go so far as to say he was sure it wouldn’t happen again. But how could he go back into that room and act like nothing hadhappened? How could he be expected to live there, to sleep in the bed where the betrayal had occurred? It was ironic how he’d come back thinking that he was coming home. Now his home, the security and sanctity of it, was completely destroyed. How did they start over?

He had so many questions and few answers. The only thing he knew was that when he closed his eyes, he kept seeing Jeonghan as he’d looked before he’d walked out. He’d never seen him look so small, so fragile. He didn’t even need to ask himself if he could forgive him: he already had. Even now, despite what he’d done, there was no one Seungcheol trusted more than Jeonghan. How fucked up was that?

He sat there lost in his thoughts until his watch beeped 5:00am: the time he would’ve had to wake up to get ready to leave if he’d been with his team. Strange how his trip felt like it was a lifetime ago.

Climbing to his feet, he winced when his muscles resisted, having been in the same position for far too long.

He stared at the door for a few more minutes, weighing the pros and cons of going in versus spending the rest of the night in the corridor. Jeonghan might be asleep and he didn’t want to wake him if he was.

Sighing, he put his hand on the knob and turned, pushing in the door slowly so that the sound would be minimized.

He needn’t have bothered, though. Jeonghan was sitting at the foot of the bed – now dressed in his favourite over-sized sweatshirt, which had originally been Seungcheol’s but may as well belong to him for as often as he wore it – his bowed head rising when he heard the door.

Seungcheol closed the door behind him, locking it before he moved towards the bed without a word. He sat on the floor beside Jeonghan’s legs, not leaning against him but not making any attempt to put space between them.

“Seungcheol-ah,” Jeonghan said, his voice raspy in the vein of one who hadn’t spoken for a while.

Seungcheol didn’t reply but he was listening.

“I didn’t kiss him,” Jeonghan continued softly. “He forced me in the end, out of spite for refusing him, I think, but I didn’t kiss him. I wouldn’t.”

It was ridiculous how those words could ease the ache in his chest, just a little. How the tension in his body drained away enough that he felt a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He still didn’t say anything, he wasn’t yet ready, or able, to talk, but he allowed himself to touch: placing his hand on Jeonghan’s bare foot; basking in the silky warmth of his skin and the feel of his beloved’s precious bones beneath.


	3. Mingyu

It was upwards to 3:00am when Mingyu’s feet dragged him the final few steps to his door but he was never more thankful to be home than he was just then.

 _And_ grateful that he lived in an off-campus apartment instead of a shitty dorm-room. The last thing he needed or wanted was to have to put up with someone else’s company or the incessant background noise that seemed an unavoidable part of dorm life.

Maybe his problem was that he was _too_ much of a loner, he thought, placing his keys on his narrow kitchen counter. He’d never been the type to seek inclusion or acceptance. He had friends, or acquaintances rather, whatever, but he preferred his own company over anyone else’s. Besides, it wasn’t as if people were beating down his door to befriend him. He was doing everyone a favour by not subjecting them to his notoriously unpleasant disposition.

Sighing, he dropped onto his couch and passed a weary hand over his face.

The night hadn’t gone anything like he’d expected it to. In truth, he’d had no expectations. His “friends” had buzzed him earlier about a party in the lounge of one of the very lame dorms that he had no interest in being a part of and, for lack of anything better to do, he’d decided to check it out. Free booze and a few puffs and any scene could become an enjoyable one. Throw in someone to warm his bed for a while and he’d consider the night a success.

He’d been halfway through his third Jack and Coke when he’d spotted him.

A Prince holding court on a dingy sofa, beneath very poor lighting, drinking a glass of cheap wine yet still managing to look ethereal, like he’d stepped out of an anime or some fantasy novel.

He might tease Jeonghan about being a Princess but he didn’t actually think of him that way. Nothing about Jeonghan was feminine, apart from his hair if one was narrow-minded enough to consider it so. Mingyu liked that about him. It was one of the very many things that Mingyu liked about him.

His watchdog-boyfriend was nowhere in sight, unusual for them, and Jeonghan hadn’t seemed himself, his usual shine somewhat dimmed, so naturally Mingyu couldn’t resist going over to find out what was behind the change, especially when Jeonghan had made eye-contact and held his gaze. Also unusual.

He’d started off with his customary cheesy spiel, fully expecting Jeonghan to rebuff him like he usually did; completely taken aback when he didn’t. If it had been anyone but Jeonghan, he would’ve been suspicious. Why, after rejecting him time and time again, was he suddenly being receptive to his advances? Anyone else would’ve had to be playing some kind of game, getting their kicks. But _because_ it was Jeonghan, the thought never crossed his mind. Jeonghan wasn’t into games. He was too nice, too genuine, to get any kind of enjoyment out of playing with people’s emotions. He’d never led anyone on as far as Mingyu was aware, always staying faithful to his boyfriend. And where the hell was Scoups, anyway? Mingyu had expected him to pop up at some point during their conversation but when he hadn’t and when Jeonghan continued to receive his attentions, even flirting back for the first time _ever_ , he’d thought he’d hit the jackpot. Maybe Jeonghan was finally tired of Scoups and ready for something new. Or maybe he’d decided that Mingyu was actually worth his time. Whatever the reason, he wasn’t about to question his good fortune.

He hadn’t considered it at the time but looking back, he wondered what Jeonghan’s friends had thought of the situation. They’d drifted off before the flirting had gotten really serious but everyone knew that Jeonghan never gave him the time of day so it must have raised a few eyebrows. Did they think Jeonghan had taken him home, or that Mingyu had taken advantage of him somehow? Would they tell Scoups? Would _Jeonghan_ even tell Scoups after the way things had ended?

It shouldn’t bother him, it had nothing to do with him, but it did.

In the fantasies he’d had of him and Jeonghan over the past couple of years, he’d always been very careful with him, gentle and tender, treating him the way someone special should be treated. He’d imagined taking his time, caressing him, tasting him, tuning him up until there wasn’t an inch of his skin that wasn’t flushed red with pleasure and pushing him to his limits and beyond until Mingyu’s name was a litany on his lips. It hadn’t taken long, however, upon entering Jeonghan and Scoups’ room to realize that the reality was going to be completely different to his fanciful imaginings. Jeonghan said as much when he admitted that he was basically using Mingyu to motivate Seungcheol to step his game up. He could accept that, could understand it even, but when Jeonghan wouldn’t even let him kiss him…that was when he realized his “place.” He, or his dick rather, was just a tool to get Jeonghan off. Nothing more, nothing less.

So much for his fantasies...

He’d be lying if he said that it hadn’t made him angry. It had. It had struck a place inside of him, a dirty, ugly place that made him want to strike back. That was the only reason he’d been able to handle Jeonghan as carelessly as he had. Contrary to popular belief, Mingyu didn’t actually get off on hurting people. Sure, he indulged in quite a bit of casual sex – he wasn’t committed to anyone so why not? – and some of his bedmates had kinks and fetishes that he had no qualms indulging. However, somehow, rather than _those_ individuals being tainted by the public’s opinions of their quirks, it had fallen onto his shoulders. Since he had no reputation to lose anyway, he didn’t really care. If anything, it served him well as some people were naturally drawn to bad-boy losers and he quite fit the bill.

His anger had helped him get through the entire ordeal, and in the moment he’d enjoyed it, feeling powerful and triumphant, wielding his mastery over his temporary lover who was quite the willing victim, but afterward, especially after he’d forced his kiss onto a tearful, resistant Jeonghan, he’d been left feeling hollow inside.

When Jeonghan had asked him to stay, he’d almost burst out laughing. They both knew that Mingyu’s lingering presence was the last thing he’d wanted at the moment. Maybe he’d just said it to be polite, to make the situation seem less sordid than it had been. Or maybe it was one of those “misery loves company” things where because he’d already felt like shit, it didn’t matter if Mingyu had stuck around longer. Anything was better than being alone, right?

For both their sakes, he’d left, pretending like none of it had mattered to or affected him in any way, but even as he’d walked out the door, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to erase the image of Jeonghan that was tattooed in his memory. He’d been bruised and teary-eyed, trembling slightly, though Mingyu didn’t think he’d even realized. He’d looked like a fallen angel, broken and tainted. _He’d_ done that to him.

Nice going, Mingyu.

He should’ve never gone home with him. Jeonghan had always been fully committed to Scoups. Their love was something that Mingyu had envied from afar. Regardless of the fact that Jeonghan had seemed receptive to his attention and whatever his issue with Scoups, Mingyu should have known better. It wasn’t like Jeonghan would ever leave Scoups for the likes of him. That card had never even been on the table. So why had he given into temptation and allowed himself to dream? He knew better.

He didn’t know what it said about him that he worried for the state of their relationship going forward, now that he’d personally helped do damage to it. He hoped that, someway, somehow, they came back from this. It would be a shame for them to lose what they had because of someone like him. Relationships like theirs were so rare.

He honestly didn’t know what was wrong with him. People often asked him that: why he was the way he was. They assumed that he was a mess because he’d come from a messed up home or something. The truth was quite the opposite. He had two fairly normal parents. They weren’t rich but he’d never wanted for anything. He’d been spoiled at home, being the only son, and while he and his father might not see eye to eye, he’d never been abusive in any way. His parents hadn’t been too thrilled to learn that he was actively bisexual but they hadn’t made a huge fuss about it either. Yet, somehow, he’d never felt quite right. And it wasn’t to say that he’d only broken out of the good-boy mould when he entered university. No, he’d pretty much been a bastard since high-school. If his parents ever found out the things he’d done and continued to do, it would probably break their hearts. They were the only ones who still held pure thoughts where he was concerned.

Well…except one other.

_“You know that he loves you, right?”_

Jeonghan had said that to him when he’d returned from getting them fresh drinks at one point during the party, not too long before they’d left.

Jeonghan’s gaze had been off to the side, over his shoulder, but he hadn’t bothered to turn around. He hadn’t needed to. He knew exactly who he was talking about.

“Tough luck for him,” he’d replied smoothly, giving that smirk he knew usually earned him an exasperated eye-roll from Jeonghan.

It worked. Jeonghan had rolled his eyes, taken a sip of his drink, and moved onto more pleasant conversation.

Mingyu didn’t know what he’d done to earn Wonwoo’s devotion. He couldn’t imagine standing in the shadows, watching someone he cared about – loved – flit from person to person while he stood there, waiting for his turn. It was a bit much sometimes, to be honest. He didn’t feel worthy. He wasn’t, plain and simple. Wonwoo had so much to offer, so much to give to someone who deserved him, and Mingyu was not that person.

That didn’t stop him from accepting it, though. It wasn’t taking advantage when it was freely, willingly given. Wonwoo knew exactly who and what Mingyu was so if, knowing that, he had no problem coming to his bed when he needed a quick, uncomplicated fuck or picking Mingyu up from parties when he was too drunk to find his way home, why should Mingyu? Yet, he did. Deep down, he hoped that one day Wonwoo would open his eyes and realize that he was so much better than he was and deserved far better than Mingyu could ever give him. He was good looking, sweet, intelligent, well-liked by all. There wasn’t a thing wrong with him. Mingyu didn’t know how he couldn’t see that; how he didn’t know that he deserved everything his little heart desired.

In the meantime, he wouldn’t send him away. Wonwoo was the only good thing in his life. The only one who knew him inside and out and accepted him for it, loved him in spite of it.

When his phone beeped, he automatically reached for it.

Speak of the devil.

He didn’t need the display to tell him who it was. It could only be one person.

A slight smile tugged at his lips as he read the message.

_Did you get home okay? Do you need me to pick you up?_

He stared at the message for a couple of minutes, weighing his options. He could ignore it, pretend he hadn’t seen it. For all Wonwoo knew, he could be asleep. But he knew Wonwoo well enough to know that he wouldn’t just leave it at that. He wouldn’t rest until he knew that Mingyu was okay. If Mingyu didn’t reply, he’d come over to his place to check on him. If he didn’t answer the door, he might sit out in the hallway all night. Or, God forbid, go over to Jeonghan’s to see if Mingyu was still there. That was the last thing Mingyu wanted.

Wonwoo was too good for him, just like Jeonghan. And like Jeonghan, Wonwoo deserved someone like Scoups: a Prince, not the devil incarnate. But that wasn’t what Wonwoo wanted, was it? He wanted _him_.

_Ah, fuck it._

He typed up a message and hastily pressed send before he could change his mind.

_I’m home. Come over._


	4. Wonwoo

His keys were already in his hand before the reply came through.

He made a detour to his bedroom to grab a couple of condoms, shoving them into his pockets, before heading out the door. Mingyu didn’t always have, no matter how many times Wonwoo warned him about being safe. He’d even considered buying a box and leaving it in Mingyu’s bedside table but what would it matter if he didn’t remember to use them? Besides, he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries their relationship, such as it was, might have. At least Mingyu was up front and honest with him about his liaisons and he made sure to use protection when they were intimate. Wonwoo just wished that he’d be careful _all_ the time. It wasn’t just about _not_ contracting an STD. He had to wonder if Mingyu even considered that an unplanned/unwanted pregnancy was a real possibility.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he climbed into his car and set off to Mingyu’s apartment. Unlike Mingyu, he lived in campus housing. Mingyu’s apartment wasn’t far, maybe a ten minute walk, but considering the time of night, he didn’t feel like taking the chance. Crimes on campus were rare but rare didn’t mean they didn’t happen.

He was actually surprised to have gotten such a quick response, though he was glad he had. He wouldn’t have been able to sleep if he hadn’t. Hell, he hadn’t even changed his clothes since the party, just in case he’d needed to go out again, which he _had_ as it turned out.

It’d only been about an hour and a half since Mingyu and Jeonghan had left the party; since he’d left it too. Considering how long Mingyu had been thirsting for Jeonghan, Wonwoo had expected him to spend the night. Unless he’d struck out: that might explain it. It wouldn’t surprise Wonwoo, to be honest. He’d actually been more surprised that Jeonghan hadn’t outright rebuffed Mingyu’s advances like he usually did. Scoups was off on a team trip, Wonwoo knew, and maybe Jeonghan had been lonely or bored and didn’t mind the company. He didn’t think Jeonghan was the type to lead Mingyu on but he also wasn’t the type to cheat. Or maybe he was.

Wonwoo didn’t know Jeonghan very well but he knew _of_ him. No one had a bad word to say about him and from his own interactions with him, Wonwoo could understand why. He could also understand why Mingyu had such a hard-on for the guy. Jeonghan was perfect in every way and Mingyu couldn’t help but want to sample that perfection. Who could blame him? Jeonghan wasn’t Wonwoo’s type, personally, but he could see the appeal. He’d always put personality ahead of looks and Jeonghan had both in spades.

Not to mention that Mingyu secretly envied Jeonghan and Scoups what they had. He wondered if Mingyu even realized how contradictory that was to the life he lived.

When he pulled up outside of Mingyu’s complex into his empty parking spot – Mingyu didn’t have a car – he turned off the engine but didn’t immediately get out.

He sometimes wondered why he continued to put himself through this. It didn’t seem to matter how accessible he made himself, Mingyu wasn’t interested in something monogamous or long term. And especially on nights like this, where Mingyu left with someone else and called him over afterwards, he never knew what he was walking into. And yet, even though Mingyu didn’t have to, even though he must know by now how hopelessly in love with him Wonwoo was, he still invited him into his world, still gave him what he wanted, even if the moments were fleeting.

An outsider might say that Mingyu was just using him, taking what he so willingly gave, but Wonwoo knew that it wasn’t like that. Not entirely, anyway. Mingyu cared about him, even if he never said the words. _He’d_ never told Mingyu that he loved him either but he was sure that Mingyu knew. Mingyu didn’t hold it against him; had never made fun of him because of it; never abused it. It was simply something that existed between them despite neither of them acknowledging it.

Maybe one day he would wake up and decide that he’d had enough. Maybe one day seeing Mingyu choose to go off with someone else instead of coming home with him would finally be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Maybe one day he simply wouldn’t love him anymore. But today wasn’t that day. His love for him was very much alive and kicking. He knew that Mingyu didn’t understand it. He’d seen confusion in Mingyu’s eyes occasionally when he looked at Wonwoo, as if he was wondering why Wonwoo was there; why he continued to put up with Mingyu even though his actions hurt him. He’d asked as much a couple of times in moments of quiet openness. _That_ in itself was why Wonwoo stayed; why he kept coming back. Wonwoo was the only person Mingyu was ever himself with; the only person he ever allowed himself to be vulnerable with. He knew the best and worst of him and he loved him in spite of it. No one else could claim that title. It was all his own.

Wonwoo knew what people thought of Mingyu and it made his heart ache. They didn’t understand him; they didn’t even know him. They didn’t see the sad, insecure young man he hid beneath his tough, no-care exterior. Wonwoo did, though. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what exactly had pushed Mingyu into becoming the man that he was – from all accounts he’d had a good life and no childhood trauma to speak of. Perhaps it wasn’t one singular event but a combination of things. Mingyu had told him about the mistakes he’d made in high-school, little harmless ones at first that progressed into larger issues and by the time he’d graduated, he’d had a reputation he hadn’t intended to cultivate. Since many of his former high-school classmates attended their university, his reputation had followed him. Instead of university being a chance to start over, to start anew, he’d been forced into a role that others allotted to him in order to survive. It was whittling away at him, though, little by little.

Sighing deeply, Wonwoo shook off the gloom and alighted from his car. It didn’t take long for him to get to Mingyu’s floor – he lived on the second – and soon enough, he was tapping the knocker.

 _“It’s open,”_ he heard through the door.

He pushed it open and found Mingyu in the middle of the living room, standing in his boxers with the remote in his hand, flipping through the television channels. It was obvious that he hadn’t too long come out of the shower. His hair was still damp, long tendrils curled on his forehead and the back of his neck. There was also a light sheen of moisture on his bare back, chest and arms.

“You coming in or what?” Mingyu asked, not taking his eyes off the TV.

Wonwoo slipped inside, closing and locking the door behind him. He cleared his throat, not exactly sure what to say. He was getting strange vibes from Mingyu and he wasn’t exactly sure what to do.

“Fucking cable,” Mingyu swore, turning the TV off and throwing the remote onto the couch. He glanced over at Wonwoo. “You want something to drink?”

Wonwoo simply shook his head.

With a grunt, Mingyu turned and walked off towards the bedroom, leaving Wonwoo to follow in his wake.

 _Definitely in a mood_ , he thought.

“Um…how was your evening?” he ventured. “With…uh…Jeonghan?”

“It was,” Mingyu answered noncommittally, walking into the en suite bathroom.

Wonwoo frowned. What the hell did that even mean?

He hadn’t noticed any hickeys or bite marks anywhere on Mingyu’s exposed flesh, nothing to indicate he’d been with someone, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe Jeonghan just wasn’t a biter.

The clothes he’d worn to the party were balled up at the foot of his over-flowing laundry hamper. Wonwoo made a mental note to take care of that in the morning.

“Take off your clothes,” Mingyu ordered sharply, walking back into the bedroom.

 _It’s one of_ those _kinds of nights, is it?_ , Wonwoo thought, reaching for the first button on his shirt. _He must have struck out then_.

Mingyu had certain moods he went through after a hookup, depending on how it went. One of them was sullen and short of speech, as if he had barely restrained rage simmering beneath his skin. Usually, when that was the case, he would take Wonwoo with a quick, brusque urgency. He wasn’t violent, never that, but he was less…thorough and thoughtful than he might otherwise be.

Despite himself, desire flickered along Wonwoo’s nerve-endings. He enjoyed all sides of Mingyu, even the ones the man himself considered undesirable. But that was love for you, he supposed.

He was just about to tug down his boxer-briefs, his last piece of clothing, when Mingyu placed a hand over his to stop him.

Startled, Wonwoo looked up into Mingyu’s dark, unreadable eyes. “Mingyu?”

Mingyu didn’t say anything. He simply stood there watching him silently.

Unnerved, Wonwoo ducked his chin slightly. “Don’t you want…”

Without a word, Mingyu cupped his cheeks, tilting his head up, and captured his lips. He was gentle, much to Wonwoo’s surprise, teasing his lips apart, thumbs stroking ticklish circles on his cheeks as he took his time with him.

The love that he had for this man burned hotly in his chest, coursing through his veins. On the heels of that, however, was confusion. He’d thought he’d seen all sides of Mingyu, could predict his every action and the cause of it, but something was going on with him right now, something that Wonwoo couldn’t read, and it scared him.

Eventually Mingyu pulled back, flashing a small smile before gesturing for Wonwoo to get on the bed.

Slowly, he complied, settling on his back as he anxiously watched Mingyu.

Mingyu went out into the open kitchen/living room first, turning off all the lights, before entering the bedroom and turning off the overhead light there, plunging the room into darkness.

They’d had sex in the dark before so Wonwoo didn’t react but he was still nervous. It wasn’t like Mingyu to be this quiet for so long, not unless he was angry or upset about something. He didn’t _look_ upset but…

He felt the bed dip and froze, waiting with bated breath.

The covers were pulled up and over him and then Mingyu was rolling him – gently – onto his side, sidling up to his back, arm sliding around his waist.

_O…kay then._

Mingyu pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, which made him shiver, tightening his arm around Wonwoo fractionally before relaxing.

So…they were cuddling. Wonwoo loved cuddling with Mingyu. They cuddled often, usually after sex, operative word being _after_ sex. Cuddling without sex? Not so much the norm.

What the hell was going on?

“Mingyu?” he whispered.

Mingyu’s breath fanned his neck when he “ _Shh’d”_ in his ear.

“But…”

Teeth grazed across his shoulder in warning, followed by a tender, apologetic kiss. “No talking, just sleep.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help feeling a little adrift. This was new territory for them.

Sleeping together without sex as a prelude pretty much never happened. The only time he could remember where it _had_ was because Mingyu had been too drunk to function, and not for a lack of trying either.

Experimentally, he shift, pushing back against Mingyu, warmth spreading through his chest and outward when Mingyu nuzzled behind his ear and tightened his arm even more around him.

Maybe this was their new normal, he thought, giving into a small glimmer of hope. Maybe it was just the next phase in the evolution of their whatever-ship.

He didn’t know the whys of it and maybe he’d regret not knowing later on, but in the moment, it was hard to regret anything that led to him falling asleep, feeling warm and wanted, in the arms of the man he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it was short but...thanks for reading!


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